Beauty of a crystal

CHAPTER 14

Crystal's skepticism towards her sister's tales up in the attic of their childhood home of witches, vampires, and monsters quickly vanished after spending half an hour trapped underground with a crazed vampire.

If only she had taken her sister's stories seriously earlier, she might have avoided the harrowing experience altogether. But as the saying goes, "Live long and learn," and Crystal had certainly learned that sometimes the unimaginable can become reality.

Crystal found herself sitting on a large bed, the thick black curtains blocking any indication of time. Her eyes wandered around the room; it was fairly spacious and beautiful, but she couldn't bring herself to admire it.

Amid the silence, she could feel her heart pounding, begging for an escape. Her breaths were controlled, but her mind was plagued with memories of her gruesome conversation with Vlad.

He had played with her mind, wearing down her mental state with images of them. But she refused to believe them. No one could be as cruel as what Vlad had shown her.

The realization dawned on her that they had been there not too long ago, perhaps when she was still unconscious. The mere thought of their presence and the possibility of them touching her while she was asleep sent a chill of horror down her spine. She couldn't shake off the feeling of discomfort, and her body trembled with fear and anxiety. The darkness around her seemed to close in, and she felt a sense of dread creeping up on her.

Despite being dragged around like a ragged doll in that underground space by Vlad, she was surprised to find that she had no visible injuries, not even a broken bone, as she had initially expected.

A shiver ran down her spine as she remembered the haunting image of Vlad disappearing into thin air. The memory still gave her nightmares, leaving her feeling scared.

She couldn't shake off the feeling of helplessness as she lay on the ground, bruised and alone. A silent tear slid down her cheek as she relived the moment, hoping it would never happen again.

Xavier and Matthew were seated in their spacious office, bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun. Xavier was sitting on the couch, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, while Matthew was pacing back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. The tension in the room was palpable, and the silence was only broken by the sound of Matthew's footsteps.

Xavier suddenly spoke, his voice low and tense. "She's awake," he muttered, his gaze flicking towards Matthew.

Matthew's eyes narrowed, and he stopped pacing. "I can feel her fear from here," he growled, his fists clenching and unclenching. "I don't think it's a good idea to go in there."

But Xavier was not to be deterred. "I don't care," he said, his voice rising. "She's my mate, and I'll do whatever I want."

Matthew sighed and settled behind his desk, his expression thoughtful. "We still don't know what he showed her down there," he warned.

"You think I fucking care?" Xavier snapped back, his voice laced with anger.

Matthew's eyes flicked towards the door, and he shifted uneasily in his chair. "I swear to fucking Absalom Xavier, sit down and give her some time," he said in a calm voice.

But Xavier was beyond reason. He picked up a large decorative vase from the coffee table and hurled it at Matthew with ease. Matthew didn't even flinch as the vase missed him by an inch.

Xavier slammed the door shut so hard that it flew off its hinges and shattered into pieces of expensive wood. The room was now filled with the sound of splintering wood and shattered glass. Matthew simply tsked at his brother's outburst, knowing that Xavier's temper was not to be trifled with.

"Abigail," Matthew's voice commanded, instantly reaching her through telekinesis.

"My king," she replied dutifully.

"Go look after her. She's finally awake," he ordered, cutting off any further communication. He surveyed the chaos in his office, the broken door, and shattered vase causing a huge mess. Matthew sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

As he walked out of the room, Matthew was immediately met by one of his men who was responsible for the continuous search of Vlad. The vampire in question knelt before him in a sign of respect and fear, but the leader was in no mood for pleasantries.

With a demanding and annoyed tone, he asked the vampire, "This better be worth you blocking my way."

The young vampire hesitated for a moment before speaking, "Forgive me, my lord, but we have now gathered some information concerning Chloros."

At the mention of Vlad's surname, Matthew sighed heavily. "Follow me," he said, walking off. The young vampire trailed behind him, unsure of what was to come.

They made their way to an ordinary bar, where the leader poured two glasses of what seemed to be whiskey. He handed one to the man and leaned against the bar table, urging him to continue.

The young vampire took a sip of his drink before speaking, "We have reason to believe that Chloros is hiding in the abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city."

The leader raised an eyebrow in surprise, "And what makes you so sure?"

"We have a reliable source who saw him there," the young vampire replied, trying to sound confident.

Matthew took another sip of his drink, considering the information. "Very well," he said finally. "We'll pay a visit to this factory and see if your information is accurate."

"As Matthew was about to leave, the vampire stopped him. "That's not all," he said, his voice low and serious. Matthew looked back at him, curious. The vampire continued, "Our source was Morgan." At the mention of Morgan's name, the vampire's jaw clenched and he let out an irritated sound.

Morgan Salvatore was a well-known shapeshifter in their world, but he had been forgotten by many. Matthew hadn't heard from him in 96 years since he disappeared without a trace. His disappearance was suspicious, to say the least. Before he vanished, Morgan used to fill in for his father as the commander of all shapeshifters.

After Morgan's disappearance, the role of commander was passed to his sister, Sylvia Salvatore. She was known to be a real pain, and many shapeshifters didn't like her leadership style. Matthew wondered what Morgan's connection to the current situation was and why he had resurfaced after all these years.

A very short chapter I know but I'm sorry. I've been having a few complications as of late. Adding up with all the school work I have, it's complicated